


more than a few

by bloodstainedskin



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Clones, DYAD, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Femslash, Mature for Future Chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodstainedskin/pseuds/bloodstainedskin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cosima gets a mysterious note from an oddly-beautiful stranger, she and the rest of the Clone Club must figure out who the hell this girl is, and how the hell she knows about the DYAD's biggest secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. lonely but not alone

Being surrounded by bookshelves and tables with computers and papers skewed across them had become a comfort to Cosima. It was one of the few places that the young woman could seem to escape her intruding thoughts and focus on the ones that she wanted on the forefront of her conscience. Today, she found her peace within her computer screen, a Microsoft Word document open and a half-filled essay on the conclusions of her most recent research on the page.

The only thing that made focusing difficult was the pounding sensation in her heart when she noticed the blonde sitting next to her in her peripheral vision. It certainly didn’t help when Delphine would reach her hand across the table and poke Cosima in the side.

“Delphine, I am way too ticklish for you to be doing that here,” Cosima spoke in a low voice, trying to contain the giggle that wanted to burst out. “Libraries are supposed to be quiet, not filled with my loud laugh…”

“Your laugh is cute,” Delphine stated with an immediate certainty. The smile on her berry-stained lips didn’t help Cosima’s fluttering chest.

“My laugh is obnoxious.” _Stay stern, Niehaus, don’t show weakness. Don’t crack a smile_. Yet, the grin still creeped on Cosima’s face.

“Cute-” Delphine leaned across the table and pressed a kiss onto Cosima’s cheek. The smile grew. “-incredibly cute.”

She tried shaking off the lovestruck glance she gave Delphine, but somehow, she couldn’t. Her head felt fuzzy, like static filled her mind and her stomach felt warm. The warmth crept up her arms and down her legs, and soon she was out of breath from the heat rising within her. She let out a breathless sigh, shaking her head once more before turning back to her work. _How the hell am I supposed to focus with a humanized puppy next to me?_

Delphine had left to get the two of them a few cups of coffee after a while, as it was getting late in the afternoon and the two had been in the lab early in the morning and in the library since they got lunch at 11:30. Plus, the French genes ran strongly in Delphine, and she could barely go a few hours without a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Cosima knew Delphine would blow through a few smokes as she made her way to the coffee shop, and that gave Cosima a bit of extra time to finish her paper, or at least get further.

The dreadlocked woman was engaged in her computer when she heard the voice of someone near her. It was a woman’s voice and it felt unfamiliar but very American in tone, far from the voice of the woman she had spent so much time with lately.

“Uh, sorry, super into this paper here, hold on…” Cosima trailed off in a hushed tone; the sound of her typing was louder than her voice.

It took a moment for her to finish her thought on the document, but as soon as she did, Cosima glanced up at who was standing in front of her table. A girl, probably no older than twenty, a wild red mane of curls knotted on the top of her head, tall, with wide hips and thick thighs-- a true hourglass figure, a statuesque grunge hipster, pretty enough to be in Hollywood or New York. Instead, here this woman stood, in front of Cosima, looking halfway lost but somehow happy about that fact.

“Cosima Niehaus, right?” The ginger-haired girl asked, the white of her teeth showing through maroon lips.

“Yeah, hey, what’cha need?” Cosima smiled up at her. _Cute, but too young. Scott does need a date for once, though… Maybe…_

“So, uh, this may be totally weird to ask, but I run this science blog and I’d love to talk to you about your research! Would you be interested in that? If not, that’s totally cool, but I hear you’re the Evo-Devo expert ‘round these parts,” she looked at Cosima with a pleading, puppy dog grin. _She must be part French._

“I’d love to! But, if I agree, can you help me with something?”

“Depends on what it is, but I’m pretty open,” the girl hesitated for a moment, but eventually went along with it.

“So ‘pretty open’ as in willing to go on a lousy date with my friend Scott?” Cosima had to laugh; the idea of Scott on a date was absolutely ridiculous, and this modern Marilyn Monroe was way out of his league.

“This Scott fellow is in luck, I just got dumped a month or so ago.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Email me to work out the details of our interview for my blog, and you give Scott my email in return. I’m sure you’ll hear all about our date.”

The girl grabbed a sticky note out of her bag, wrote a few things on it and handed it to Cosima. Once the auburn beauty had crossed the room, Cosima looked at the note.

**ANYA KERRINGTON**

**anya@ladiesofscience.com**

**(555) 807 9221**

_**The clones are not alone** _

**  
** And suddenly, at that little note scribbled at the bottom of the sticky pad, Cosima felt all of her safety and happiness fall away.


	2. planning the unknown

“I don’t know, Sarah! I have never seen this girl before!” Cosima was frantically waving her arms, until they landed atop her head and she leaned back, pulling at her dreadlocks in stress. It was true, she had never met Anya Kerrington before, but somehow, this girl knew about the clones. She knew about them, her sisters.

“A’right, Cosima, slow your shit. What’d she look like?” Sarah asked, propping her hand under her chin as she asked the question. She, Cosima and Felix sat in the apartment, each one of them with their alcoholic beverage of choice (Cosima had a glass of white wine, Felix had red wine, and Sarah- a bottle of beer) as they sprawled across the couch and chairs. Cosima’s hands had moved to her cheeks, and then they fell to her lap.

“Messy red hair, killer bod- like, better than mine- uh, hipster as fuck. I don’t know!” The dreadlocked clone was talking with her hands again, moving them furiously around her. Felix finally piped up.

“But ‘ya got her email and number, didn’t ‘ya?”

“Yes, but-” Cosima was cut off.

“Well then go to the bloody interview and see what the hell she wants!” Felix mused, before taking the last sip of his glass and leaving the couch to fill it once more.

“Fee, she can’t go alone. What if the girl is one of Helena’s people?” Sarah sighed, shaking her head before speaking again. “Look, you set up the interview and play along with this girl, see what in the hell she wants- and if shit hits the fan, you won’t have’ta worry, because I’ll follow you there and make sure she isn’t another religious arse like Homeless Shakira.”

Felix got a laugh out of the last part of Sarah’s sentence. “ _Homeless Shakira_? Now that is perfect.”

Cosima was tense, though. Part of her felt afraid; she had always been safe before, safe in her labs and safe with Delphine, but this had no guarantee. Sure, Sarah was good with a gun and could think on her feet like no other, but Cosima had never been in a situation where her life was in danger. Her mind raced to all the possible outcomes of the plan, all the things that could go horribly wrong, but nothing ever seemed to go right.

“Fine, I’ll email her now.”

Cosima pulled out her phone, opened her email application and typed out a quick sentence or two, asking Anya if she was available tomorrow. She could not falter, she could not break. Cosima had to commit to the lie, commit to the plan of deception and schemery. When she pressed send, a long sigh came from her, and she threw her phone onto the coffee table. Soon, she found herself putting the glass of white wine to her lips and dipping it back, letting all of it pour down her throat.

Cosima wanted to fade away then, to leave and not face her problems. This girl, Anya, she knew something. It was clear by her note, which Cosima still kept in her bag. The clones are not alone. What could that mean? Was it something about Delphine, who she knew to be her monitor? Did this girl work for the DYAD? For Helena’s crowd? There were so many questions to ask, and no answers to be found. Cosima had Googled Anya’s name, and sure enough found the blog that she apparently ran. She also found out about all the scholarships she had won, all the academic and community achievements, everything but how she knew about them.

When she told Delphine about the girl, her eyes went wide, and she immediately wanted to go to Leekie to report what they knew of Anya. Cosima had told her not to, though, and she prayed that her monitor was on her side, at least for once. She wanted to figure this girl out for herself. Leekie would probably just have her killed off, sent to prison, made her disappear. If Delphine had told him, Anya would be gone by now. She would never receive Cosima’s email, there would never be an interview, and Cosima would never know the truth behind who she was. If that happened, Cosima knew she would never let it go. _She knows something, after all._

Within minutes, her phone was buzzing. Sarah and Felix were talking about something else by then, something about Paul, but Cosima couldn’t pay attention. She stared at the phone for a long moment, as it vibrated. Then, she picked it up, and slowly moved her fingers to reply to the email. Her breath was caught in her throat, and her head felt dizzy. Suddenly, she dropped her phone onto her lap, and doubled over coughing. Felix pushed the box of tissues towards her; Cosima grabbed one mid-cough. The tissues was soon covered in blood, and Cosima finally stopped coughing long enough to stare at the red stains through water filled eyes.

“Alright, Cos?” Sarah and Felix had stopped talking now, and she felt a hand on her shoulder, Sarah’s hand. Cosima threw the bloodied tissue into the garbage bin across the living room and finally read the email.

“We’ll see if I’m still alright by tomorrow night.”


	3. the first but not the last

Sarah drove her there, to Anya’s apartment. It was an old building just outside of Downtown, with century old features and brick walls. Cosima was told to park in the lot beside the building, and that Anya’s apartment was number 203. _Second floor, three down- simple enough_. Cosima hadn’t told Delphine where she was going, but she was sure that the French woman would find out on her own somehow. Now, as the two identicals sat in the parking lot, staring at the entryway, Cosima found the words she had been searching for the entire car ride over.

“I’m fucking terrified, Sarah,” Cosima managed to whisper, a crack in her tone. Nothing she had ever done could have prepared her to face the unknown. Sarah would follow her up the stairs and hide there until Cosima got inside, and then Sarah would keep an eye out from outside the door. Was that enough, though? Alison had pepper spray and a taser on her at all times, Sarah had a gun, what did Cosima have? _Nothing_ , she reminded herself. _I have nothing_.

“Ah, you’ll be fine, Cos. Don’t worry,” Sarah replied, and apparently that was enough waiting and talking, because then she got of the car and motioned for Cosima to do the same.

And so she did. Cosima stepped out of the car, her heart pounding a little too quickly, her mind racing a little too much, but she made it. Sarah made Cosima walk in front of her, as they entered the building. They were soon climbing stairs, and Cosima felt like her legs were going to collapse under her.

“Sarah, I can’t-” Cosima grabbed onto the handrail, steadying herself.

“Yes, you can. You have to. If you can get a fuckin’ PhD, you can do this simple shit, alright? You can.” It was Sarah’s way of comforting Cosima, and so she just nodded her head and continued up the stairs.

When they reached the second floor, Cosima took in a deep breath, hoping to fill her lungs with courage. All that came in was oxygen. Sarah must have noticed the stress on Cosima’s face, because she patted her on the shoulder, squeezing a bit before Cosima went off down the hall. For a brief second, she looked back at Sarah, who was peeking her head out of the stairway, but then waved at her to keep going.

Cosima did. She made it to the door. 203, in gold letters across the oak. She put on her best smile, making sure it didn’t look too fake, and then she knocked a few times. In the brief moment it took for Anya to get to the door, Cosima’s head started to spin. She wanted to go back, she wanted to flee. Was it in their genes, to run? Sarah had been on the run for almost a year, but she also knew that Sarah faced everything head on when she needed to. Somehow, that gave Cosima comfort.

The ginger-haired girl answered the door, standing tall even in bare feet. She looked casual, in her yoga pants and tank top, like nothing else was going on in the world. Her smile was bright, and even without makeup, with those bags under her eyes, she was beautiful.

“Hey! Come on in!” Anya welcomed her, opening the door wide for her to step in. As Cosima walked in, she noticed papers in neat stacks everywhere. There was a desk in the corner, with a desktop computer with three monitors, and a laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Sorry it’s kinda messy, I’ve been workin’ away…” Anya said as she was closing the door behind her.

“No worries, my place is much worse,” Cosima said. There were no immediate signs of foul play in the apartment, nothing that didn’t look like a typical college student’s apartment. Maybe the fact that there were computer parts everywhere, but, maybe it was a hobby.

“Sit, sit, please. You want hot cocoa? I just made some.” She was already bringing two mugs of it to the coffee table. Cosima plopped down on the white couch, taking the mug that was offered.

“Always, hot cocoa is my favorite…” Cosima trailed off to take a sip. When she was done drinking, she added, “So, uh, about-”

Anya was quick to cut her off.

“Don’t worry, there’s actually no interview. Did I have you and the others freaked out? About my note? Sorry. I was trying to be cryptic, you know, to keep it on the down low.”

“Wait, okay, so you know about the others? How? How do you know any of this?” Cosima was starting to feel dizzy again.

“Simple. The clones are not alone.”

“But what does that mean?”

Anya set down her mug of cocoa, and walked over to a door, apparently of a hall closet. She pulled out a clear plastic box, which was full of what looked like paper. She brought it over to where the couch was, set it down on the coffee table and sat next to Cosima. Cosima then noticed a little label on the box, black ink on a lavender sticky note.

**PROJECT LEDA.**

Her eyes went wide.

“How did you…” Cosima reached for the box. Anya let her.

“My Dad, he works for the DYAD,” Anya seemed to let out a half-sigh at that, like it pained her to say. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to do any official DYAD business. Trust me, I’ve had enough of them for a lifetime.” That seemed to upset her, too. “Anyway, my Dad. He works at the DYAD, and he works with me. Don’t tell anyone, but he let me borrow his log in to the DYAD computer system, although his access was limited. I, uh, did some ‘computer magic’, hacked some things, changed some codes, and got access to… everything.”

Cosima started ruffling through the papers, scanning over some of them and letting things jump out at her. What seemed to fill this box were log entries made by a monitor about the day to day life of someone named Jennifer Fitzsimmons. There was everything from what she ate for breakfast to how many times she made phone calls that day. Every tiny detail of this woman’s life was entered and recorded.

“Is this all you have?” Cosima asked, looking up from the papers.

“I have hard copies of everything that has ever been entered about Project LEDA. That hall closet is a walk in, and it’s filled to the top with boxes, just like that.”

“Can I-” Cosima was cut off again.

“No. You can’t take any of the hard copies. Come here as often as you like and look at them, but they stay here. But, I have something for you, Cosima, hold on.” Anya jumped up from her seat and went to the closet where the boxes sat, and she heard some movement and shoving of boxes, until Anya came out again, holding a briefcase.

The auburn headed woman set the briefcase on the table, and fiddled with the lock. “The code is 48-24-39, alright? Remember that.” Cosima nodded at Anya’s words. When the briefcase popped open, she noticed a laptop inside. Silver, shiny and new.

“This computer has one purpose and one purpose only. You log onto the DYAD servers. They can’t trace your IP on this one, I’ve made sure of it. They won’t be able to track you, as long as you use the program on there that I’ve made. It’s simple to use, and if you need any help with it, there is a number saved on a Notepad document on the computer, you call me there. On your clone phone. Don’t use this computer for anything but looking at DYAD information, and don’t talk to me about the DYAD except for on THAT number, okay?” Anya was serious, not the same flirty, happy girl that she had met in the library.

“Okay. But can I ask you one thing?”

“Shoot.”

“Why?” Cosima looked at the brand new laptop, custom made, and the custom made program that sat on her screen.

“The clones are not alone. Project LEDA was just the first human cloning project, and it wasn’t the last.”


End file.
